Down The Line
by Hunter Jade Slater
Summary: So we started out innocently...enough. But somewhere down the line, I guess I fell for you.
1. Explosive

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. No matter how much I wish I did, I do not.

Author's Note: This first part is my character's POV.

**Chapter One: Explosive**

"_FRED!!!!!!_"

Good old Mrs. Weasley, or Aunt Molly, as she wants me to call her.

Good old Fred. He probably burned a hole in Charlie's sweater again. Or something like that. How did she know it was Fred? It could have been George. But George doesn't operate with explosive pranks. That much I know. Because it had been Fred who'd meant to blow up Ginny's scrambled eggs when I was eight, but instead had accidentally placed the Exploding Snap card on my plate, where no one saw it until after my toast had blown up in my face. I smelt like butter for three days.

I better go downstairs and see what he exploded this time. I smell burnt rubber. Oh Lord, that better not be the old Wellies.

I sign the entry in my diary, Brielle Aurora Lovegood.

(End POV)

Brielle shut the door to Ginny's room quietly. She walked down the stairs and saw Fred on his hands and knees, sleeves rolled up, washing the ashes off the floor. He grinned up at her, and she saw that there were a few ash marks on his face, and some ash in his hair. She sat in a chair and watched him for a few moments.

"Well," he said, sitting on his heels. "How is my favorite godsister and neighbor?"

"Frederick Aaron Weasley…." she trailed off. "What on Earth did you blow up this time? And where is George?"

"George? Oh, he's retrieving his Fanged Frisbee from your uncle's house. He left it in Luna's room." he got back on his knees and started scrubbing again. "I blew up a Wet-start Firework, but it didn't go right, and the water fell into the fireplace, causing all the smoke and that is why the windows and door are open and I am on the floor scrubbing."

"And why you have ashes all over your face and hair." She leaned over, brushing a few off the top of his head.

"You know, since you're eleven now, I'll have to teach you and Ron the ways of Hogwarts." he said, dipping his sponge in the bucket of soapy water next to him.

"Just because your mother is my godmother doesn't mean you have to watch over me like a hawk!" she protested. Her dirty blonde hair fell in her face slightly, obscuring one of her blue-green-grey eyes. She brushed it away impatiently.

"Alright, alright, don't eat me." he held up his hands in surrender. "But how else are you going to be our accomplice if you don't know the secret passageways of Hogwarts?"

"Secret passageways?" she asked, intrigued.

He nodded. "But, I guess you don't want to know. You said you could take care of yourself." he looked up at her. She was bursting from wanting to know, but to proud to say that she needed his help. She did and he knew, but she wouldn't say it until she really needed him.

He relented. "Alright, I'll tell you. But after I'm done, okay? I have something I want to show you."

She nodded. She'd only sat there for a few minutes when Mrs. Weasley came in. She surveyed Fred's work. "Use a little more elbow grease, I want as much of that stain off as humanly possible. Brielle, dear, Ron's out in the back yard, would you like to join him? He's picking apples."

She shook her head. "No, Aunt Molly. I'll stay here and keep Fred company."

She raised her eyebrows a bit, then gave Fred a look, and she bustled out again.

"She thinks we're bad influences on you." he said, shaking his head.

"Of course not, we all know you're going to get those top-notch jobs at the Ministry." she said sarcastically.

He grinned. "Is my sarcasm finally beginning to rub off on you? Good girl."

George entered the room with a snarling Frisbee. "The bloody hell'd you do in here?" he asked.

"Let's say I had a problem with a Wet-Start Firecracker."

George shook his head. "I can only imagine."

Fred stood up and bent his head in with George. " I think we should show Brielle the Map," he muttered.

"The one we nicked from Filch?" George asked with raised eyebrows

Fred nodded. "That one." he glanced at Brielle, who was playing with her fingers. "I think she deserves to know."

George nodded slowly. "Alright, but if she tells-"

"She won't." He saw his brother's disbelieving look. "Really. She's better than that. It's not like she's seven! And even back then, did she tell about the time we slipped a firecracker into the pond where Percy was swimming? No, she didn't. Personally, I think- "

"Fred, shut up." George looked amused. "I get it. You trust her. Now shut up before I start thinking you fancy her."

"I do not!"

"Exactly."

Fred rolled his eyes and got back on the floor.

Later that day, after dinner, after the family (and Brielle) had dispersed from the table, Brielle sat on a bench outside in the garden. She didn't hear Fred and George behind her, until they each grabbed one arm and hoisted her into the air.

"Hey! What're you-" she was cut off by George clapping a hand over her mouth and whispering, _ "Shh!"_

They brought her to a secluded corner of the garden. George fumbled with a lamp for a few seconds, then it lit, showing three chairs. She sat in one, the boys sitting across from her. Fred put the map in her hands.

"…and what is this supposed to be?" she asked, turning it over and examining it. "If this is some stupid prank you're going to pull on me, then just remember- I know what you're afraid of, where you live, and your middle names."

"But this is not stupid." George said.

"Nor is it a prank, really. More of a prankster's helper." Fred added.

She raised an eyebrow, and Fred tapped it with his wand. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

"'Misters Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present the Marauder's Map.'" she murmured. She unfolded it. "Is this…?"

"Hogwarts." George nodded.

"And that's…"

"Professor Snape, the Potions Master, sitting in his office." Fred finished.

"Wow….I…wow…" she shook her head. "What possessed you two to show me your biggest secret? This is amazing! You can get around Hogwarts with no one knowing."

"Fred wanted to," George shrugged. "I wondered what was wrong with him too."

"But remember, if you tell, we know what you're afraid of, where you live, and-" Fred's lips twitched as he said, "and your middle name."

Se smiled at the usage of her line, and said, "Thanks, guys. This thing is…brilliant. Thank you for letting me know." she looked down at the map. "But how do you clear it?"

George tapped it with is wand, saying, "Mischief managed."

She smiled at them "I'm sure you guys will have fun with this." she said, handing it back to Fred.

"Oh, but we wouldn't do anything without you!" George said. "Think about it- who will suspect a first year to know the passages right off the bat? Who will expect a first year to be pulling off the pranks that you will? Our sign of work is a wand crossed with a firecracker, but you can do something different."

She grinned. "Yeah, I know exactly what I'll use as a sign." she stood. "But now, we should go back. Your mum will be worried about us."

And with that, she led them back to the house, where they said goodnight and went to bed.


	2. Malfoys, Potters, and Weasleys, oh great

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except Brielle and the events that follow her.

Author's Note: this part is Fred's POV. It'll most likely switch off between the two of them every chapter.

**Chapter Two: Malfoys and Potters and Weasleys, oh great.**

I, Frederick Aaron Weasley, King of Exploding pranks, am an anxious third year.

Not as anxious as Brielle and Ron, I suppose. They're the ones being sorted, after all.

But what if she doesn't get in Gryffindor? I mean, I guess Ravenclaw would be alright, she's pretty smart, and Hufflepuff's…okay, but what if she gets in Slytherin?!?!?!

No Fred. Don't think that. She won't be in Slytherin. And neither will Ron.

Oh, there's that kid from the train, Harry Potter. Poor guy, doesn't have a clue. Doesn't even know why he's famous.

"Finnigan, Seamus!" calls Professor McGonagall.

Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Gryffindor.

I tune things out until…

"Lovegood, Brielle!"

Then I snap back to reality.

The sorting hat sits there for a while. It's having a hard time.

Then his mouth opens wide and…

(End POV)

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She sighed with relief and hurried to sit by Fred and George. "I thought it would never figure me out," she said. "It sat there forever just batting back and forth; Ravenclaw? Gryffindor? Ravenclaw? Gryffindor?"

"Yeah, well at least you're here with us." George said.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

"Malfoy?" Fred asked. "No…."

"You better believe it," she said grimly. "He tried to make Harry Potter his friend, but" and at this she took on a proud look, "Harry chose to sit with Ron instead."

"And where were you?" Fred raised his eyebrow. "Not pulling a prank already?"

"No, I wasn't." she said. "I was being followed by Malfoy and his trolls when I found Ron and Harry. That's when Malfoy pulled up the whole 'Pureblood' speech."

"Oh." George said. "Little git." he muttered darkly.

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Like father, like son, they say." she said.

"Potter, Harry!"

The threesome fell silent and looked up, along with the rest of the school, to the Sorting Hat. It sat silently for a while, then-

"GRYFFINDOR!"

They cheered and clapped while Harry sat down at their table. On went the Sorting, until finally:

"Weasley, Ronald!"

White-faced and trembling, with a shock of red hair, Ron walked up to the stool, sat, and let McGonagall slip the hat over his head. Fred, George and Brielle watched worriedly.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

They clapped again as Ron came to sit in between Harry and Brielle.

He looked rather annoyed. "It said, 'Oh, another Weasley? I know where I'll put you.' It treated me like I was nothing!"

"Yeah, it did that to me and George." Fred said. "I think it got that way after Percy was sorted. Just wait till Ginny comes."

"Poor Ginny." Brielle shook her head. "It won't wait two seconds to stick her here with us."

Just then, "Zabini, Blaise!" was sorted into Slytherin, and food appeared on the platters in front of them. They looked at each other, then began eating.

She never noticed how hungry she was until the food had appeared. She dug in happily, ladling mashed potatoes on her plate, along with chicken and ham, and a roll.

Fred watched her for a few minutes, watching the way she was so happy with her new school, her new House, her new friends.

_Will she have any time to be happy with me?_ he thought sadly. _Will she be happy with me at all? What will happen to the times we had, me and her and George? _He remembered back to the summer day she had been sitting at the kitchen table, brushing ashes from the top of his hair.

She seemed to sense his gaze on her and turned to look at him. As though she knew what he was thinking (Lord, that was a scary thought), she smiled and squeezed his hand. Then she turned back to her food.

He smiled and turned to help himself as well, a new happiness in his face.


	3. The Butterfly

Disclaimer: Alas, I own nothing except Brielle and her situations

Author's Note: I think you get the whole POV drill, right?

**Chapter Three: The Butterfly**

All right, now's my chance. I can see Fred through the window, in History of Magic. It looks like he'll fall asleep soon.

Okay, this is the exact spot. I'll just need to set it up and wait. Shouldn't be long now, just enough time to get Binns deep into his lecture. Good thing I'm allowed to handle exploding and non-exploding things.

I wouldn't trust George with anything explosive. It would be the end of my life and Fred's. If the explosion didn't kill us, Aunt Molly would.

It's nearly time. I hear someone coming. Someone rounded the corner; it was my classmate and fellow first-year Gryffindor Seamus Finnigan. I groaned. Lovely. Just as he was about to walk into my prank, I reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him behind the statue I was hiding behind.

"Oi! What're you-" I cut him off with a quickly hissed "Shut up!"

He eyed me warily. I shook my head. "What's about to happen here, you will tell no one it was me."

He smiled at me then. "Deal, as long as it keeps me from Charms a bit longer."

I raised an eyebrow. "I was washing my face in the bathroom. I accidentally set a feather on fire in Charms." he explained. "I don't want to go back and face Flitwick just yet."

I brushed some ash from the top of his head. "What is it with me and ash covered boys? I seem to be surrounded by them." He laughed. I peered around the statue; I could feel him looking over my shoulder. "Here goes," I muttered.

"3…2…1."

(End POV) 

_WHAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Fred jolted in his seat; so did everyone in the classroom. At once everyone began talking and pressing their faces at the window to see what happened. He turned to George.

"You don't think-?"

"Maybe."

The door opened, they all spilled out of the classroom. He noticed nearly everyone in the castle doing the same.

The crowd was thick enough now that she and Seamus could lose themselves in it and not be suspected, She realized she was still holding him by the wrist. "Sorry." she muttered. She got into the crowd, and let it carry her towards the site of her damage.

It was spectacular. Peeves zoomed about, cackling madly with glee. The corridor was filled with bouncing blue and green stars, while streamers of red and orange flew about. In a deep purple, right in the middle of it, there was a delicate, intricate butterfly.

Fred caught sight of her face in the crowd. She was staring up at it, an intricate butterfly.

He understood, and laughed. George gave him a strange look, and Fred shook his head.

He remembered back to the day she had helped wax Charlie's broom, drawing the butterfly in the wax with her finger. Then again, when she had helped his mother wash the counters, in a twirl of soap on the tabletop. Then again on the day they'd shown her the map; in the remnants of ash on the floor.

_Butterfly._


	4. Something Stupid

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Brielle and the events that follow her

Author's Note: Do I even have to say it this time?

**Chapter Four: Something Stupid**

"Watch out. " I warn her as she's about to step out of the portrait hole. She makes an annoyed humming sound.

"Just check the map," she says.

"Peeves is on the fourth floor, painting the walls blue, Filch is on the third floor, guarding a room." as I was about to close the map, I thought I saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione, then decided my eyes were playing tricks on me. I shut the map quickly.

"Come on," my brother whispers.

We lead her down the stairs, and out to the first floor, then down a corridor filled with paintings of fruit. I stop at one and tickled the pear. It giggles. So does she, at the sight of laughing fruit.

The pear turns into a handle, and I open the door.

(End POV)

Brielle stepped inside the kitchen, her annoyance at Fred momentarily forgotten. "Wow…" she breathed. 'This is so amazing."

Fred smiled and looked around. He saw that most of the house- elves were gone, tending to fires or resting, but a few remained in the kitchen.

"Would you like anything, Sirs and Miss?" one squeaked.

"No thanks, just came to show our friend around." George said. Fred checked the map, then his watch.

"Alright, we better go soon. We don't want detention for being late to class," he said.

Even though Brielle was facing away from him, she knew he was looking at her. She gave an annoyed sigh. "Fine."

They crept back up the stairs to the Common Room.

"Brielle-" Fred began, but he stopped when she turned around. She was angry. Brielle angry was sometimes just as scary, maybe scarier, than Mrs. Weasley angry.

"SHUT UP!" She screamed. "I AM SO SICK AND TIRED OF YOU ALWAYS ACTING LIKE I NEED HELP WITH EVERYTHING! I AM NOT LITTLE ANYMORE, I'M ELEVEN! I CAN DO THINGS ON MY OWN, AMAZINGLY ENOUGH! MAYBE WHEN I WAS EIGHT, THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE, BUT NOT ANYMORE! IF YOU'RE GOING TO ACT LIKE I'M HEPLESS, THEN I'LL SHOW YOU JUST HOW WELL I CAN GET ALONG WITHOUT YOU!" she turned around and stormed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Seamus, who had come down in the middle of the fight to find out what the noise was, asked, "What was that all about?"

Fred sighed and flopped down on a couch, head in his hands. "I did something stupid."


	5. Fanged Frisbees and Forgiveness

Disclaimer: it ain't mine, I'm tellin' ya! Except Brielle.

Author's Note; Ya get it now, right? I hope so.

**Fanged Frisbees and Forgiveness**

It's been two days since I got mad and exploded like a Dungbomb in Fred's face.

I know there are more graceful ways to put it, but I can't think of any.

I stormed away, thinking very mean thoughts about Fred. After a while, I calmed down, and then I was upset. I'm still angry enough not to go up and talk to him, but not so much that I don't wish he'd come talk to me first. Which, of course, he won't, because he most likely hates me into the next century. And the next.

You get the point, right? I screwed up. I couldn't just shelve my pride. No, I had to get angry with him. He was just trying to help! Why couldn't I see that then?!

I better go down to breakfast; people will start wondering where I am. Especially Ron.

(End POV)

Fred sat at the Gryffindor table, and for once, was not eating with gusto. Instead, he was glumly picking at his food with out an appetite. George glanced at his brother worriedly.

"Are you alright?"

Fred shook his head. "NO."

Brielle walked in, and sat down as far away as possible from Fred as she could be. She looked at the plate in front of her, sighed, and didn't take anything. She heard the fluttering of wings as the post arrived. Her eagle, Majesty, landed in front of her. Only a letter from Luna, asking what Hogwarts was like, and how were Ron, Fred, George, and Percy faring? She sighed as she read Fred's name in Luna's curly script. She wanted so badly to say everything was fine, to say that they were as close as ever.

But she couldn't lie.

Correction: She wouldn't lie. Not to her cousin.

She stuffed the letter in her bag, and stood up without eating anything. She could hear Fred's voice in her head:

"_You need to eat something, Brielle. You don't want to faint from hunger in the middle of class."_

Ah, shut up, Fred.

She hurried up to the library to find something interesting to read while she waited for the bell. She quickly picked a book off the shelf and cracked it open. Her mind was so absorbed in the story that she jumped and fell out of her chair when the bell rang. She shoved the book away and made a mad dash to class.

Meanwhile, Fred was, for once, concentrating on something in class. It was not, however, his work. He was meticulously copying an image from memory onto parchment. Then in his best handwriting, he wrote a message. He raised his hand.

"Yes, Mister Weasley?"

"May I use the restroom?" Fred asked.

Professor Quirell nodded, and Fred hopped up out of his chair and hurried along the hallway. He crept along, then slid into the boys' room that was the perfect height to throw it. He attached to the note to a Fanged Frisbee. He opened the window, leaned out, and threw the Frisbee downward. He heard the gratifying sound of glass crashing, and knew that his plan had worked.

Brielle started as something flew in the classroom, making a hole in the window. In the commotion, no one noticed it landing on her desk. She pulled the note off and read it.

_Brielle-_

_What light through yonder window breaks? It is the dawn of realization, and I am the idiot who's realizing._

_Okay, that was pathetic, but I had to figure out someway of apologizing without saying it flat out. Forgive me for being overprotective?_

_-Fred_

She grinned and took out her quill. She scrabbled down her message as Flitwick fixed the window and resumed class. After the bell rang, she hurried up to the Owlery and picked the most annoying owl she could find.

It hooted and flew away, continually making loop de loops and hooting incessantly the whole way.

It landed on Fred's head, and he quickly snatched it off and opened the note.

_Fred-_

_The village called, they want their idiot back. I told them tough crap, the idiot's MINE._

_See you at lunch. Don't eat the whole table._

_-Brielle_

Fred smiled and pocketed the note. As he watched the owl fly in dizzy circles back to the Owlery, he knew things were all right. Still on thin ice, but for the most part, all right.


	6. Troll!

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! I feel so ashamed.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately.

**Troll! **

Wow, September's gone already? Must think of a good Halloween prank… old Snapey will be getting quite a surprise…

(End POV)

The days of September had flown by and soon enough, Halloween thrills swept over the castle. Orange and black streamers lined the ceilings, pumpkins sat on the stairs, and strings of dried apple slices hung just about everywhere, making the castle smell like apples and cinnamon.

Brielle, Fred, and George were planning. They spent all their free time on it. It was a huge prank, elaborately laid out. It had to be worked in all the right ways if they wanted it to go right.

So they waited and waited with sweet anticipation for Halloween. Slowly the days passed until finally- finally! -October 31st arrived.

Brielle sat with the twins at the Gryffindor table. They were speaking quietly, their heads bent together.

"We'll have to get up quietly. If anyone asks, you're tired and we thought we'd walk you back up to the Common Room." George said.

Brielle nodded. "That's good. Then-"

SLAM!

The doors to the Hall opened and through it came Quirell, running like a madman.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeon! Troll in the dungeon!" He stopped in the middle of the Hall. "Thought you ought to know." Then he fainted dead away.

Thunder and lightning cracked overhead and everyone screamed. Dumbledore called for silence and instructed everyone to get back to the Common Rooms.

Brielle found herself being rushed along the corridor. Each of her arms was taken by a twin. But somehow in the rush of all the things, they got lost and found themselves in an empty corridor. There were great, steady thumps behind them.

Their eyes widened, and the twins pulled Brielle behind a wall. There they stood, hearts racing, until the troll turned into a different corridor. Then they ran for the stairs, barely catching up to the crowd just as they got to the portrait hole.

"Let's never- do that- again." Fred panted as they sat in the Common Room. The others nodded.

"I guess we'll just have to set up the prank next year." Brielle added glumly.


	7. Up To Something

Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me

Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.

**Up To Something**

Well, November's here and my birthday is pretty soon. I should watch my back, there's no telling what Fred and George are going to pull on me.

I wonder where they are, actually. I should probably go look for them.

(End POV)

Fred was standing in a corridor outside the Great Hall, passing time before class. He looked around and decided to walk further down the hallway to see what he could mess up. As he did so, a smaller figure came around the corner and slammed right into him.

Brielle tumbled back. "Sorry Fred, didn't see you. Blimey, do you get taller by the minute?"

He laughed. "No, you're getting shorter."

"Maybe. What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"I was looking for something to ruin but I decided it would be better if I didn't." He began to walk with her in the direction he'd just come from. "You seen George?"

Brielle shook her head. "Not as of yet. We'll find him eventually though."

Fred cast his gaze around the Entrance Hall, his eyes landing on his little brother and his friends. "Hey, there's Ron," he said absently. Brielle, however, looked a little more closely.

There was something odd about Ron's face. About all of their faces, really. They had this look as they spoke. Brielle knew that look. It was the look Fred and George got when they were planning.

"They're up to something," she said.

--

_A/N: Really really really short, sorry!!_


End file.
